I can see them,
In my mind,
Fifty years from
now
Two old friends,
by then
Friendly banter,
tall tales
Fish stories
There they were,
On the bank of the
pond,
Seven or nine,
No more than that
Fishing poles,
tackle box,
Knotted line,
worms,
And a net between
them
Thick with the
muck and wet
As they try to
catch the big one
Hornpout and koi,
and goldfish
As big as their
arms
Just out of reach
In the murk
Or surfacing
Too near to forget
Seasoned veterans
Already, or so
they seem,
On the their own
In the park,
Under the July sun
No knee or hip waders
yet;
But they will come,
certain,
Along with more
practiced yarns
Recited with
echoes of memory
When they are
older
-------------------
edited November 15, 2018
Future Curmudgeons – v2
July 10, 2004
Future Curmudgeons
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of my poems, photographs, and videos are copyrighted by Raymond A. Foss, 2000,
2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, 2013,
2014, 2015, 2016, 2017, and 2018. All rights are reserved. Contact me at Ray
Foss (raymondafoss@gmail.com) for
usage. See all 48,080 of my poems at www.raymondafoss.blogspot.com
Poetry Where You Live
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